Homecoming

The sting of the wind in my eyes,

The tears of the sky as it cries,

The sad lonely song of the buffalo gone

As they make their way to the horizon.

A voice from the wagon ahead,

The men in the campsite are dead,

The look in their eyes as they look to the skies

And the red prairie buzzes with red flies.

Now moments and I find I’m free,

Make haste so the soldiers won’t see,

A lullaby sung by the dead man that’s hung by

the same tree where they say I belong.

But I’m coming home.

Baby, I’m coming home.

Past the wheat fields and towers

And cows pulling plows ‘cross the farms.

I’m coming home.

Baby, I’m coming home.

Ain’t no handcuffs in Texas

That can keep me away from your arms.

And the moment they asked about Jacob I knew I was through,

And my memory gave and I membered how he looked with you.

A different song, but two rights make a wrong

and the next thing that either one knew

was my longbarreled sixshot and smoke in the air

and then Jacob shot dead as he lay in the bed

beside you…

Now soon I will see you again,

Ain’t no way fer you to know when,

But when that day breaks you will find you awake

Buried beneath an acre with Jacob.

And so I’m coming home.

Baby, I’m coming home.

‘Cross the deserts and borders

and slaves digging graves on the farms.

I’m coming home.

Baby, I’m coming home.

Ain’t no handcuffs in Texas

That can keep me away from your arms.

Yes, I’m coming home.

Baby, I’m coming home.

Through the valleys and canyons

And rivers that cut up the farms.

I’m coming home.

Baby, I’m coming home.

Should you like it or not,

You can’t keep me away from your arms.

I said like it or not,

You can’t keep me away from your arms.